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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073933">The Archivist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowrunalong/pseuds/nowrunalong'>nowrunalong</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005), Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, F/F, Gallifrey, Pre-Femslash, Timeline What Timeline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:02:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowrunalong/pseuds/nowrunalong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman in long, gold-hemmed white robes strides up to Oswin’s desk.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clara Oswin Oswald/Romana II</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Little Black Dress Flash 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Archivist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira_katrine/gifts">kira_katrine</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oswin looks up from her book at the sound of the library doors opening. A woman in long, gold-hemmed white robes strides up to Oswin’s desk. Her high collar and sash indicate that she is someone of importance.</p><p>“Do we carry Earth literature at this library?” the woman asks. Her air is focused, but not haughty. Oswin likes her immediately. “I’ve been trying to order a change of regulations, but of course, the High Council fights me every step of the way.”</p><p>“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” Oswin asks.</p><p>“Temporal Mechanics, by Aaron Blinovitch.”</p><p>“Oh, I haven’t read that one.”</p><p>“But is it here?”</p><p>“I dunno.” Oswin frowns over the desk. “Should it be here?”</p><p>The woman sighs. “Where is the Archivist? Is he around somewhere?” She catches sight of the book Oswin has open and does a double-take. “Rassilon, don’t tell me the old man has regenerated.”</p><p>“I haven’t seen an Archivist,” Oswin says. “It’s just been me in here all morning.”</p><p>“Who are you, then?”</p><p>“Oswinellienzaloraswald.”</p><p>“Well, Oswinellienzaloraswald—”</p><p>“Call me Oswin,” Oswin says helpfully.</p><p>“Oswin. Why are you here? This is the Archivist’s desk.”</p><p>“Is it?” Oswin says curiously. “I thought it was mine. I seem to be sitting here. I don’t recall why, mind you. Kind of like a dream, where you can’t remember the start, or how you got to where you are, and all you really know is where you’re headed.” </p><p>“Regeneration amnesia,” the important woman says, with a touch of impatience. She looks again at the book Oswin is reading. “Do you know what it is you’re reading?”</p><p>“Do you know your own name?” At the woman’s narrowed eyes, Oswin adds: “Of course, not all of us do. I might fancy having another. Maybe ‘the Echo’. D’you think it suits me? I’ve always wanted a title.”</p><p>“That book is written in Old High Gallifreyan.”</p><p>Oswin pats the open pages with a sympathetic hand. “This book is very dull. Needs more colourful imagery. A few more metaphors, a little adventure—”</p><p>“I am President Romanadvoratrelundar,” President Romana says. “You can either help me find what I’m looking for, or I can have you removed from the Library.”</p><p>“All right, all right.” Oswin looks to the dull book again. It’s the Index. How could she have forgotten? Frowning, she flips to the heading that denotes outsiders in the study of Time. “Yes,” she says, as a few more spaces in her memory are coloured in, “the Academy owns a copy of Blinovitch’s text.” The Time Lord Academy, on Gallifrey. It’s where Oswin works. Or she once did. Or she will next year.</p><p>“Good. Where can I find it?”</p><p>Oswin gets up from her desk, closing the Index. “It’s in the Lower Archives. If you’d like to accompany me, Lady President.”</p><p>“It’s not in the primary Library?” President Romana asks, following Oswin to the elevator.</p><p>“With the old regulations still in place, the students of the Time Academy are only given access to Temporality textbooks written by Time Lords. The other books have always been here, but no one sees them. If it were me, I’d let the students read anything they like. Here we are.” Oswin presses the button for the Lower Archives.</p><p>“I’ll have to double my efforts to update those regulations,” President Romana says, as the elevator platform begins its descent. “Will you remain the Archivist here, Oswin? I know that an unexpected regeneration can inspire new priorities.”</p><p>“I don’t think so,” Oswin says. “I love books, mind you, but this library is as dusty and stale as an old ruin. I’ve always wanted to travel.”</p><p>President Romana smiles slightly. “You sound like the Doctor.”</p><p>“The Doctor… Have I met the Doctor?”</p><p>“I very much doubt it. He never did bother to study.”</p><p><i>Temporal Mechanics</i> is stored in a gated section of the Lower Archives alongside works by Sunari and Nekkistani scholars. Oswin unlocks it with a handprint. Fascinating, she thinks, that it should know her even though she has never visited the Archives with these hands, nor this face.</p><p>Or maybe she had, once. Or maybe she will next year.</p><p>She retrieves the book for President Romana.</p><p>“Thank you, Oswin,” Romana says. And then: “You’ll move these books upstairs, won’t you?”</p><p>It’s not really a question, but Oswin answers anyway.</p><p>“Well, I’m still the Archivist.” Oswin grins, conspiratorial. “For now, anyway. I think it’ll let me do some rearranging.”</p><p>“I believe your contract is for another fifty-four years,” President Romana tells her.</p><p>“Goodness. How long have I been here?”</p><p>“Centuries, surely.”</p><p>“Do you come here often?”</p><p>“Not since I attended the Academy,” President Romana admits.</p><p>They start back toward the elevator platform—through the low stacks of books that are too delicate or too disputed to display, Romana with the book tucked under her elbow.</p><p>“So, how can I get you to visit more?” Oswin asks. “You’re the best company I’ve had all day.”</p><p>“I’m the only company you’ve had all day.”</p><p>“All century, then.”</p><p>“You don’t even remember yesterday,” President Romana says. But Oswin thinks that she looks amused.</p><p>“D’you reckon I’ve met anyone more interesting than my Lady President in the past century?”</p><p>“All sorts of scholars visit the Academy Library.”</p><p>“Scholars,” scoffs Oswin, turning to face President Romana. “Will you have lunch with me tomorrow, Lady President?”</p><p>“I’m rather busy,” President Romana says. She presses the elevator button.</p><p>“It’s a lonesome job, working in a library. I might have to break my contract and simply run off. Is it an easy thing to do, finding a new Archivist?”</p><p>“You’d be banned from the Academy grounds,” President Romana says mildly. “But we don’t really need anyone here, truth be told. I can get the Matrix to look after the Library. I think that most people who come here don’t even ask for the Archivist. He was a quiet fellow. Kept to himself.”</p><p>“Is that a yes to lunch?” Oswin asks, with her most charming smile.</p><p>“It certainly wasn’t,” President Romana says. She seems to contemplate it for a moment, and then adds: “But I suppose there’s no harm. I’ve been so occupied with getting new Academy laws passed, it’s a wonder my friends even recognize me. I haven’t had any time lately to cultivate personal relationships.”</p><p>Smiling wider, Oswin extends a hand. “Tomorrow, then.”</p><p>President Romana shakes on it, and Oswin escorts her to the doors with a bold hand resting on the small of the Lady President’s back. </p><p>And then she’s alone again, back at the Archivist’s desk.</p><p>The Echo, she thinks. Is that her name? Where did it come from? She’s lived for hundreds of years, but there is something unusual about this regeneration. Oswin can feel it in the back of her mind: tampered memories, or some kind of temporal anomaly.</p><p>Perhaps it would be worthwhile to borrow Blinovitch’s book.</p><p>She’ll ask Romana tomorrow.</p>
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